The Beginning of the End

[Nite Owl]

Author: wiccangirl311

hey guys hope your new year rocks! anyways, i don't normally post two fan fictions at one time but in this case i am because i don't know when i'd be able to post it. this one is a fan fic seperate from my other series but i will still be posting my series so have no fear.
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The Beginning

Chapter One

They say that family is your everything. Home is where the heart is. Dorothy's famous line in Emerald City was that there's No Place like Home. But sometimes your home isn't where your heart is. In fact, sometimes you wonder if you even have a heart- or at least you ponder this when you are me.

My name is Bianca. I am around 5'7 in height give or take a few centimeters; I have shoulder length brown hair which i have added blonde high lights to, to soften my appearence. I have big almond shaped coffee colored eyes and I guess you can say that my skin is the color of honey. It's not too brown and it's not too white either. No i take it back its more tan than honey. Naturally tan.

My family is like no other unless you are of magic folk and have read about us. Then again, you can be just a mere human and know about us also because HE wants you to know about us. About him and everyone that is like and unlike him. He's another story which I will get into later on.

I'm a Phoenix. The first thing that comes to people's minds when they hear the word Phoenix is the description of a beautifully colored egyption bird that is said to sing songs sweetly and at a certain point in their lives burst into vibrant flames and then rise up, born anew, from the ashes. We are not birds, nor do we burn into flames at a point in our lives. But we do share one thing in common with that legend: rising from the ashes.

Long, long ago, way before yours and mine time, before Kennedy, before George Washington, my kind were hunted and lynched for being what they were: witches. Powerful and independent; capable of doing the unthinkable yet most of them were simply practitioners of minor witch craft; spells for luck and love; potions to heal the sick or help the wounded. This is my family.

Now one could be skeptical and say there is no such thing as magic. I could counter with the question of is there really such thing as a God? Seeing isn't always believing but magic does exist and it existed back then when my family was committed and tried for being a witch. Satan's servant to do his evil deeds as some of the ignorant fools claimed the members of my family to be. When a man or woman was under the suspicion of being a witch, they were taken from their homes and put into cells awaiting their trial which would ultimately lead to their death. Authur Miller wasn't far from the truth when he wrote his play The Crucible. The witch trials went something like that. My family members burned on the stake for their sins that they had committed before god. As the flames engulfed my Ancestor Lybby she vowed that there would be a day when her blood would run again, fresh and free and more powerful than ever. She was right.

Upon that night, the full moon shined down brightly casting a slivery gleam onto everything it touched. Lybby's pile of dark ashes still rested in the place where human feet once stood. A gentle breeze came about and suddenly the ashes began to rustle and lift up in the wind, creating a funnel like cloud. There, before the night in the flesh was Lybby. Stark naked and standing under the full moon. The power pulsating through her veins and in the very air she breathed. A slight scar from when the flames had first touched her skin was noticible on her wrist. A bright orange symbol that represented our clan, the Phoenix.

And so that is how we came to be. Of course, I had always wondered why anyone would wish to be living again amongst the very people who had murdered them but it wasn't about them and it wasn't about revenge. It was about showing power and the fact that you can only be stopped if you let them stop you.

I am twenty- eight years old now and this is my story. This is everything that i am and how i came to be this way. It's funny how the mind works when you are on the brink of death. Its as if you are suddenly watching a movie that you can't pause, rewind or stop. No matter how boring or depressing it is, you're forced to recall the memories-good and the bad. Everything from that first kiss under the umbrella in the storm up until the part where you finally reallize why you are destined to be...well you. Everyone is here for a reason right? Whether that reason be for evil or something great you're here and there's no changing that. Even if you commit suicide it still won't change the fact that you once lived and once went through what you went through.

I lay here now, bleeding and breathing slowly. The voices around me sound like an echo; they're distant and faint. As if they were derived from my very imagination. As I lay dying, i can feel the beating of my heart slowing and feel my lungs pumping hard against my chest in a vain attempt to get oxygen to every part of my body. I lay here and wait for the inevitable. I wait for the darkness to surround me, for my body to drop in temperature and for the extraction of my soul into a new life. Into the after life, whether I'm destined for heaven or hell or maybe an eternity wandering the empty space of limbo being teased and laughed at by both God and the Devil for being a misfit and not worthy of any final destination.

As I lay dying, I'm forced to watch my movie: the documentary of my life. I have no cool, mysterious guy narrating my life like i used to see on the E! channel's True Hollywood Story when i was just a child. There is no drugs or divorce or infidelity. There's no fame and fortune. Its just my life. Haunting me until i take my last breath.

End of Chapter one

[wickedamazon]

My home life was something of the unusual. Being a Phoenix, the house was always full of other members coming in and out talking in hushed voices around me about their plans that were to go in motion in the coming days or hours. When I was a little girl the people showed up at our door and my mother greeted them warmly and invited them in. They were regular people to me only they had magic powers. They would gather around the table and play cards, talking in low voices to each other and laughing every once in a while.

When I was thirteen they no longer knocked on the door. They shimmered in- a way of transporting from one place to another- or appeared by other means of transportation: materialization, smoking, blinking and others. No longer did they keep their voices down when I was in the same room as them. No longer did they keep things secret. I would ask my mother over and over what they were talking about and why her friends were using words such as “kill,” “murder,” or “they deserve to die.” She would just shrug it off and tell me to go back to my room and not come back out until the guests had left.

I clearly remember the day that I found out the truth about everything. I had just come back home from the super market to find my mother sitting there in the living room on the over stuffed red couch. “What are you doing back home so early?” I asked as I placed the paper bags onto the kitchen counter. I walked up to her and stood up straight awaiting her response. I would hug my mother but in this house hold, displays of affection only showed weakness.

My mother glanced at me with her deep blue penetrating eyes. A random person walking down the street would never guess that we’re mother and daughter at all. She was tall and slender with blonde hair which she kept cut short and those eyes. I on the other hand was short and not built like a model. My hair was a dark brown and fell straight to my elbows and my eyes were a deep coffee brown. “My business trip ended early. Bianca, come here; sit down.”<br>
I walked over to her and sat down on the plush couch. My mother smiled at me.

“I know you’ve been wondering what I do for a living and I know you are concerned with what you’ve been hearing from our guests.” She looked around the room as if she was searching for something. “Bianca, you know what we are right?”<br>
I nodded. “We’re witches. Phoenixes to be exact.”<br>
Lynn-my mother- nodded her head and took my hands in hers. “Exactly. We’re very powerful witches. Elite witches. But we are also assassins. Do you know what an assassin is Bianca?”<br>
“I’m not stupid,” I replied annoyed at the fact that she even asked that question. I can tell that she sensed my frustration as she nodded curtly. “How can we be assassins? You told me that we were good witches.”<br>
“We are good witches Bianca. These people we are assigned to kill are the ones who are bad. I have raised you to defend yourself from these types of people. The kind that want to see us dead. That’s why I trained you in your martial arts, potion making and sensing skills.”

She rolled up the sleeve of my sweater on my left arm revealing the bright orange red birthmark. “It’s who we are: strong and independent. We can’t lose that. Our family has fought for generations to get to where we are today.” She smiled again and stood up bringing me to my feet as well. She took my hand in hers. “Today’s your day to shine Bianca.”<br>
She shimmered us into what looked like the middle of nowhere. We were standing in a large wide open field. The grass was a deep and bright green and came up to my knees. Every where I looked, we were surrounded by the grass and off in the distance behind us was the dark lining of the forest. I glanced up at my mother and she pointed straight ahead. Upon following her gaze I noticed that a tent had been set up and a fire was burning in a clearing.

We walked up to the clearing slowly and cautiously. When we came closer I noticed that two witches were sitting by the fire brewing what seemed to be a potion. I could tell because there were bottles of dragons blood and toad legs on the stump of a dead tree near to the fire My mother knelt down beside me. “These women want us dead Bianca,” she whispered in my ear. “They’re kind killed Grandma Rose.”<br>
My body tensed as I recalled being informed of my grandmother’s death. She had been attacked and viciously murdered. Anger flooded through me and my heart pounded heavily. My grandmother had been my mother. She was the one who hugged and kissed me. She was the one who told me that she loved me and took care of me when I was a small child. She died when I was seven.

“We’re going to make them pay for what they took away from us. You take out the woman with the red hair and I’ll deal with the other.” She glanced into my eyes, the deepness of her blue eyes penetrated into mine. “You’re going to kill her. Trust me it will be easy. You won’t even feel a thing.”<br>
The witches screamed shrilly and used their potion viles against us. Nothing can affect us though and I learned something great that day. The witch with red hair sent a potion vile at me and when it hit me I blew into pieces. The feeling was painful. A burning sensation ran through me on contact but shortly after I slowly reformed. Rising up from my ashes more angry than before.

In the blink of an eye I was before the witch and my hand on her throat, squeezing until her throat structure crushed beneath my hands. The witch’s eyes locked onto mine. Her eyes were big and filled with fear and pain. “Finish her!” my mother instructed from behind me. An atheme appeared in my hand and I drove it into the gut of the witch, just like Lynn had taught me to: puncturing both the heart and lung at the same exact time. Blood dripped from her lips as the witch gazed up at me. I felt pity for her and I felt anger at myself for what my hand had done. Her eyes flickered dimly capturing my face as the very last thing she saw.

Her body fell limp and to the ground. As I looked down at her, her milky white chest heaved as her lungs worked vigorously to pump oxygen to the organs that were slowly giving way. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her and I noticed that the pupils of her eyes became smaller and smaller as she slowly died.

The eye is like a camera: the more light the wider the aperture or you pupil gets; the less light there is the smaller your pupil gets. My mother got rid of the evidence by sending an energy ball at the suffering witch causing her to combust. Lynn’s words echoed in my head as I stood staring at the burnt area in the dirt. “You won’t even feel a thing.”<br>

[wickedamazon]

I was never allowed to go to school like a normal kid. I was home schooled my entire life which was probably why I never made any friends aside from the demons and witches that passed through my house every hour of the day. I never had anyone to play dress up with or play with my Barbies. I was always alone and every time I asked my mother to play with me she’d refuse saying she was too busy, or she had better things to do, more important things to do.

So I played by myself locked away in my room for hours playing with my dolls. I created alternate realities where people in the world were magic-less and loved their families. The Barbies were my family. They listened to my problems and they were there for me when my world was caving in.

When I was a teenager I became absorbed in reading and studying in general. My private tutor Linda was thrilled with the work that I accomplished. My school work was my way out of the life I had. But then I found that I felt so much better writing out my problems in journals. Soon school work was just what it was before I used it as a way to escape. It was just homework to me again. My pen bled all my thoughts and my soul onto a single piece of paper freeing me from all the things I had kept bottled up inside me.

Don’t get me wrong; I wasn’t a complete loner. Only, my friends were not to be trusted, even the men in my life. When I was 14 I developed a crush on one of my mother’s friends’ sons. His name was Matthew Wright.

He was the most handsome boy I had ever seen. His hair was a dirty blonde and his eyes burned green with intensity. He was tall and well built and had a tan that gave him the impression of a sun god. He was perfect. Matthew made me laugh and he was there for me when I needed him. His charming white smile made me melt at the knees and every time he held my hand my heart sped up. It sped up anytime he was near me. Matthew was 16 years old and someone whom Lynn despised with a passion which made him even more irresistible to me.

One day we had gone out to lunch together down by the piers. While I was down there, Matthew pointed out a woman with dark waist length hair and soft brown eyes. “That’s Piper Halliwell,” he told me. “A charmed one.”<br>
I glared at him. “I know who she is,” I said coldly. Why did people think I was ignorant?

Matthew wrapped his arm around my waist. “Sorry. Anyways, don’t you see that weakness? Living her life as if she were one of them? The non-magic folk.”<br>
“It doesn’t sound so bad,” I said as I glanced at Piper who was busy purchasing freshly caught sea food.

“It’s pathetic.” Just then the rain began to fall hard against the pavement and material of everyone’s clothes. I opened the umbrella and held it above both of our heads to shelter us from the storm. It was then that I noticed Matthew looking at me warmly. I gave him a curiously look and then he kissed me sweetly on the lips. My first kiss.

[wickedamazon]

It wasn’t until I was sixteen that I finally met my match.

Ever since my first kill, my mother had constantly trained me and hounded me for any flaw that she saw. I worked hard, spending every free moment training in the gym and out in the world. I killed dozens of witches, warlocks, and demons. I grew numb to the guilt. I had found a way around all that. I killed imagining that it was everything that restricted my freedom and independence. Instead of seeing the faces of my victims, I saw the faces of my mother and the men who had played me only for the power that I had to offer.

Matthew had been using me to get close as possible to make me weak. This is what enabled me to kill without a problem.

I was more skilled in my fighting than any witch or warlock was prepared for. That also went for the very first white lighter I had killed when I was 14. I was earning a reputation down in the underworld. I was topping Lynn. No longer was she getting all the big jobs. People were coming to me to get the job done. I relished in Lynn’s envy.

It wasn’t until I was out on a kill when I came across the Amazon. I was in the middle of a fight with a witch, really it was just a game to me, when she appeared.

Everything happened so quickly I barely had time to defend myself. One moment the witch was in my grasp and the next she was flung through a portal that closed as fast as it had appeared. I charged at the girl but she jumped over me with the most grace and landed on her feet behind me. I whipped around and slanted my eyes at her. The girl grinned playfully as I stared into her violet eyes. I charged at her and as quick as light she had me pinned on the cold clammy ground of the park.

She smiled as she held me by the throat with one hand and her knee was pressed against my chest. “My, my look what I’ve caught here: a Phoenix. I didn’t think they were this weak.”<br>
Her condescending tone caused me to give into my anger and I shoved her off causing her to fly back and land on the ground. In a fit of rage I shimmered and appeared before her swinging my fist at her. She easily dodged the blows I sent at her and suddenly she had me pinned again on the ground, this time holding me with one hand and steadying an atheme at my neck.

Her knee dug into my chest as it heaved heavily. I tried to remain as calm as I could. I had never been defeated before and now I was sure that I was going to die.

I looked up into her deep violet eyes and she smiled again as she leaned in closer to me. “You’re dead.” The way she whispered that sentence sent chills up and down my spine and made me shiver. She laughed as she let go of me. I looked at her confused and frightened as I picked myself up. “You should never fight on your emotions. Don’t you know that’s the best way to get yourself killed?”<br>
Who was she to tell me how to fight? She didn’t even know who I was or what I was capable of. Again I charged at her, this time more quickly. I caught hold of her arm and held it in an awkward position. The slightest move would break her arm. The girl laughed and forced her head back, her hard skull almost crushing my nose. As I staggered she cup up behind me and placed her hands on my head simply. I knew what would happen if I moved again, she would snap my neck and that would be it.

“You just keep on wanting me to kill you don’t you?” she said this with a tone of amusement in her voice as she shoved me away from her.

I squinted at her in disbelief. She was scaring me a lot. She had two chances to kill me but she didn’t. Was this a trick? Was she playing a game of cat and mouse with me? Was she crazy or something? “You’re not going to kill me?” I managed to spit out.

The girl looked at me with those piercing violet eyes of hers. “Do you want me to kill you? If so let me know now because I have a date that I’m already late for.”<br>
I laughed nervously. “No I don’t want you to kill me.”<br>
The girl nodded and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. “Then it’s settled. By the way, you need to work on that right jab of yours. I could have easily stabbed you in the ribs.”<br>
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked confused and wondering if I was in a dream.

The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve seen to many girls our age die like you would’ve just now.”<br>
I was taken back by her honesty and stepped closer to her. That’s when I realized that her eye color was now a warm rich brown color. She was just a little taller than me and had medium brown colored hair with natural red high lights. She was beautiful. She wore no make up whatsoever but had a glow to her that was just amazing. “What are you? I have never seen a witch move like that.”<br>
The girl laughed. “I’m not a witch. I’m an Amazon.”<br>
“Oh. How did you know that I’m a Phoenix?”<br>
“The birthmark was a dead give away. Is it true that your kind really rose up from the ashes?” She laughed. “I’m Zoey by the way.” She extended a dainty hand and I shook it.

“I’m Bianca. Yeah it’s true. Is it true that your kind used to cut off a boob just to be able to throw your spears?”<br>Zoey grinned. “Yeah but that was like a gazillion years ago. Hey are you hungry? I always get hungry after a fight.”<br>
“But you just said you had a date,” I reminded.

“Yeah well, I was going to break up with him anyways.”<br>That’s how I met Zoey the Amazon.